


Hiatus or Something Works, Harry Potter

by Dollface77



Series: Hiatus or Something Maybe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Captivity, Dimension Travel, Female Harry Potter, Genderbending, Genderswap, Girl-Who-Lived, Good Dudley Dursley, Harry Potter-centric, Harry-centric, Multi, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Siblings, Snippets, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-12-14 10:46:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11781546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dollface77/pseuds/Dollface77
Summary: Chapters or works that I start but I either reach a sort of plateau or I just lose interest in them. I might continue some of them but I figured I could kind of just dump them on here for now. They range a bit, but if you like them, hey ho, I might even try and crank out some more. Each chapter is a different work unless stated otherwise.





	1. Chapter 1

Her eyes were pale and unnervingly intense. That was his first impression of the girl they said was his sister. He glanced at his parents where they stood awkwardly, hands clutching the other’s arms as if to keep themselves from convening on the girl. His mum’s eyes were green- a deep bottle green, not like the icy green of this girl in front of them and she didn’t much look like the woman either. She was tan for one thing but not the healthy golden he and his dad sported; she was dusky colored which only served to make her eyes more noticeable. That mess of black hair didn’t help in that regard. It looked even more disheveled than his had ever been and was cut rather short with just enough of bangs to dip into her eyes. Again, only serving to bring attention to them. Besides that, she was small. Actually, that didn’t do justice to it. She was dainty sized small but scrappy looking. Looked like she could pounce on someone and take them down, small size or no.

And frankly it looked like she’d already sized up everyone in the room and dismissed them which was worrying. He wondered where she had been all these years. They were already fourteen after all. In fact, if the goblet hadn’t spit out her name they might not have found her at _all_. What a way to find a long lost sister. Daughter, he thought as he glanced again at his parents. They looked like they would break into tears any moment now and he cringed a little. Just a little.

That would be embarrassing. Then he cringed again because that sounded kind of insensitive. They just found a daughter that they’d thought they’d never see again and here he was thinking that their feelings were embarrassing. Honestly, he didn’t know what to really think. He didn’t know her, she was a complete stranger. He didn’t want to say he didn’t care because…Well, this was his twin and all but he didn’t really know what to feel.

Aside, of course, from wincing concern that a fourteen year old would be forced to compete in a tournament meant for of age magic folk and that people have died in previously. He looked at her again.

Dressed in a scruffy too-big jumper and wearing muggle denim, ratty trainers peeking from them. Several eye-catchingly bright gems crawling up either of her ears and almost impassive faced. She had a nice face, he thought. Not like his mum’s but she looked a bit like Granny Dorea. Except for her colors and hair style.

Wild he thought to himself suddenly and he nodded internally. That was a good way to put it. She felt, and looked, wild.

“Come in,” the Headmaster called cheerily but it sounded a little strained. The door opened and Jasper watched as Olympe and Karkaroff came in, their champions behind them. Right after came Diggory. Well that’s just _peachy_ ; now the office was filled with Ministry officials, agitated foreign schoolheads and more students. The Headmaster was lucky none of his baubles had been knocked over at this point.

“There is nothing to be done about Ms. Potter’s participation.” Dumbledore spoke before anyone could pipe in. “The tests have already been concluded. She is bound to compete or lose her magic, and it has been established that she does not wish to lose her magic.” he said with a pointed look after Karkaroff shifted to say something. The man grumbled.

“And what of her schooling? She is a student at none of our establishments.” Olympe asked with a frown, her dark eyes landing on the girl. She looked especially tiny and harmless the way she had curled up on the chair, her legs up and socked feet peeking from under her jeans and her chin on her knees. He looked back at Olypme to see concern pulling her brows together and he could see the same sort of protective concern in Fleur’s eyes. Karkaroff only seemed aggravated at the extra champion; Krum looked uncomfortable crammed in so close with everybody. Since he’d just checked them, his eyes flicked to Diggory. In typical Hufflepuff fashion, he looked just as concerned for this small slip of a girl as Olympe and Fleur.

“You can’t claim her just because her brother is here,” Karkaroff immediately threw in.

Dumbledore nodded calmly. “No, that’s not what will be happening Igor.” he said like a professor patiently explaining to a troublesome student. Karkaroff didn’t look amused. “Ms. Potter here is not a student at any of our fine schools. However, there have been instances of similar cases happening in these tournaments before.” he said with a genial smile. “She will not be registered with any schools in this case.”

“Is that allowed?” Diggory asked, crossing his arms.

“In peculiar cases like this one.” Ludo Bagman shrugged easily. “It has happened before. Which is to say, she can earn points all she wants but in the end only one of the enrolled students can actually win the title. Nevertheless, if her points somehow exceeds her opponents then she’ll be getting half as many galleons as the actual winner.”

“So she’s not actually any competition?”

“Correct.” he grinned, “She’s only competing because she’ll lose her magic, and she’s under the approved age limit as well. And she isn’t a student,” he said the last bit like a second thought. “Don’t look so worried! There are plenty of new rules in place to make sure no one will end up dying.” and Jasper practically heard the ‘probably’ he left hanging.

“We can discuss this another time. For now, I think it’s best we let the Potters get reacquainted with young Jasmine. You’ll be allowed a separate set of quarters here in the castle.” he said to the girl. She nodded easily, delicately setting her feet down as they slipped into her trainers.

“Is that it?” Sprout asked.

“For now.” Crouch grunted, getting up to go back to the Ministry. Jasmine stood and Jasper watched his parents dart over to latch onto her tightly, regardless of who else was in the room.

“Once you’re out of the office, there should be a House Elf waiting to take you to a room.” the Headmaster said kindly and he watched his mum nod against the girl’s head. They didn’t let go even as they moved to the door, making others shuffle awkwardly out of the way. Jasper followed a few moments behind them, leaving a sizable distance.

Perhaps twenty minutes later, they were in a tower not particularly used. Well Jasper always knew how huge the school was. Eventually they stopped near an alcove with a statue of a tall man with a strange looking snake on his shoulders that had two heads- one on both ends.

“If Ms. Potter be touching both snakey faces at same time, Ms. Potter be opening door!” Malmsi explained cheerfully. He watched Jasmine step closer, then go up on her tip toes. She couldn’t reach so she instead physically climbed on the dais the statue was on and again went on the tips of her toes to touch both. She easily slipped back when the statue moved to reveal a small and slim corridor.

“Why did that snake have two heads?” Jasper asked the elf. It was Jasmine that answered, speaking for the first time in his presence.

“It’s an amphisbaena. The man was an adventurer from the seventeenth century.” she said. Her voice had a pleasant rasp to it and he eyed her curiously as she examined the entry it had shown.

“Really?” their mum asked, looking at the once more stationary statue.

“If Ms. Potter be needings Malmsi again, Ms. Potter call for Malmsi and Malmsi will appear!” the elf told her sister.

“Thank you Malmsi, you’ve been very helpful. I’ll be sure to call on you again.” the elf looked like she might be delirious with joy at being thanked so politely.

“Oh yes, Ms. Potters! Malmsi will wait for Ms. Potter to call on her!” before a loud crack heralded her departure.

“He collected a huge amount of beasts and documented most of them- Jorge di Giovanni.”

“Do you like creatures then?” James asked her, eager for any scrap of information about her. She glanced at him for a moment before stepping into passageway. They were quick on her heels and Jasper went in after them, watching as the entry was covered again. There was quite a pretty painting covering what was the opening though, and the creatures in it looking at them curiously before playing about in their exotic looking backdrop.

“I do.” he heard his sister and looked forward again. “I like learning about them. I like seeing them even more.” she turned her head as she led them to a slim spiral staircase. “Is it true there are thestrals on the grounds?”

“There are,” Lily told her quickly. “But I don’t think…” she trailed off. He looked between his sister and their parents curiously. He liked care of magical creatures and all, but he wasn’t that into it.

“Thestrals?”

“They pull the carriages to Hogwarts,” his dad explained.

“Really? I’ve never seen them.” he frowned. “Are they invisible?” and his parents smiled at him warmly. He wondered what he did to get that fond soft look.

“They can only be seen if someone has seen and accepted death. Animals can see them just fine and so can most other creatures, but people need to see death of another person and accept it.” his sister explained easily and he shuddered.

“That…That sounds awful.” he said.

“They’re very placid creatures you know. And horribly discriminated against.” her doll like face moved to show a frown and she gently tucked few wild strands of hair behind her ear. “They’re not evil or anything.”

“But you wouldn’t even be able to see them!”

“I can see them just fine.” she said and he paused as the implications slid into his mind. He wanted to ask who she’d seen die in morbid curiosity but couldn’t bring himself to because he was more than a little afraid of the answer. Then they were going up the stairs.

The immediate room they climbed up to was wide and had a domed ceiling that showed a blue sky with fluffy white clouds in a picturesque way- his sister seemed just as fascinated with it. The furniture, Malmsi had explained beforehand, came from where they placed all of their unused furniture and he had itched to find out where. He had seen the same look on his dad.

But the furniture here was light colored and unmistakably feminine. The entire room was done in light blues and shades of soft white with a few bits gray here and there.

“It’s like the sky,” she said, “I like it.”

“Do you like flying?”

“I _love_ flying,” she answered immediately, her pale eyes sharpening. Their dad grinned broadly, dimples appearing. Lily only gave a slightly exasperated but mostly soft look. She shook her head then, pushing the braid she kept her long red hair in over her shoulder.

“Of course you would like flying,” she sighed wistfully. “Do you like Quidditch as well?”

“Only when I’m Seeker.” she answered, eyes wandering around the room again so she didn’t see the way their dad’s smile got even bigger.

“Do you like sports? Do you like football?” Jasper decided to ask. Dean loved football.

“The muggle game? I suppose it’s alright. I like skittles more.”

“Oh. What about Exploding Snap?”

“It’s fun I guess but I think Draughts is better.”

“Really? I never really liked Draughts. It reminds me of chess.”

“Chess is much more difficult than Draughts.” she frowned. “Draughts is nice and easy. And competitive.” she added as an afterthought.

“Are you competitive?”

“Yes.” she said almost before he could finish the question.

“Does that mean you’ll try to outdo the other champions?” he asked and from the corner of his eye, watched his parents flinch at the reminder. She hummed and plopped herself in a pretty claw-foot chaise. He sat on a loveseat and their parents moved to a sofa.

“I suppose if I can I will but I don’t think I’ll go out of my way.” she told him and his lips twisted.

“Not interested in eternal glory and fame?”

“No. Besides, do you know any previous winners? Not that eternal, their fame.”

“You wouldn’t want to be famous?” he asked. Because she will be soon now that they found her. He won’t be surprised when he and his family are on the covers again. They usually were every few months. Be it because of his Boy-Who-Lived status, his father’s achievements as Head Auror or one of his mother’s books.

“I don’t see why I should have people prying into my life.” she said and cut him from his musings. He blinked at her.

“You’re a private person?” their mum asked with a frown. She tilted her head as she thought about it. And then Malmsi suddenly appeared.

“Malmsi not be called, but Malmsi wondered if Ms. Potter and Ms. Potter’s family are wanting refreshments?”

“Yes please, Malmsi. Could I trouble you for a Daily Prophet too?”

“Yes! Malmsi bringing those things right away Ms. Potter!”

“Call me Minnie,” she said absently.

“Oh yes Ms. Minnie! Malmsi will do that!” before again leaving via loud crack noise.

“Minnie?” he asked.

“I’m only ever called Minnie.” She told him.

“And you read the Daily Prophet?”

“I just like the Fiendishly Difficult Crossword to be honest.”

“I can never get even one of the words.” Jasper frowned.

“Well it _is_ called fiendishly difficult you know.”

“Have you…Have you heard of us then?” and she nodded. “Then why didn’t you-”

“Didn’t think I was a Potter.” she said easily. “I don’t exactly look like you and nobody ever talked about a Potter girl.”

Jasper and their mum were too busy focusing on Jasmine to notice the way James’ features tightened. Soon enough there was tea and Jasper relocated himself after a few moments of indecision when Jasmine had the paper because really, he wanted to see if she could really find any of the words. Their parents watched fondly and that’s how their first afternoon as a family panned out.

xXx

He was the one chosen to bring her down to breakfast, seeing that his parents couldn’t just stay in Hogwarts though his dad was given days off on the days of the tasks and the night of the Yule Ball. She wasn’t wearing a uniform- another too big jumper, the sleeves almost covering her hands. Jeans that looked worn and pretty feminine flats. There was a headband pushing her bangs back and she really did have a pretty face. Even with that odd lightning shaped scar. She was in stark contrast with the rest of the students with their (mostly) neat uniforms and robes. She was also very quickly under intense scrutiny as soon as they entered the hall. Jasper ignored the stares and whispers as he always did and gently (she really was so tiny, it made him worry) urged her to his usual spot. Ron and Neville were already there and scooted to make room for both between them. He sat her next to Neville, figuring she might be a little more comfortable with the soft-spoken boy.

“Guys, this is my…Sister, Jasmine.” he was happy he only hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Jasmine, these are my friends.” he gestured toward them to get them to start introducing themselves.

“I’m Neville Longbottom.” the slightly pudgy boy greeted her with a nervous smile.

“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron leaned forward to look at her. “Look at that, you’re smaller than Ginny!”

“I’m not that small!” Ginny piped in with a frown before turning curious brown eyes back onto Jasmine. “I’m Ginny by the way. Ron’s one of my brothers.”

“I’m Dean Thomas.” the boy next to her piped in, eyes taking in this new girl eagerly. Jasper makes a mental note to warn the boy off before he gets any ideas.

“Don’t mind his oglin’,” came the next voice, heavy with the Irish brogue. “Name’s Seamus Finnegan, doll.” he winked and Jasper revised that he would have to viciously prank them both as a warning.

“Ignore them both!” another chimed in. “I’m Parvati Patil. Don’t trust any of these Gryffindor boys. Date outside your house, that’s what I say!”

“But she’s not really in a house…” Jasper felt compelled to point out. Parvati huffed.

“The point still stands. Don’t date a Gryffindor boy. Especially not in this year.”

“So cruel.”

“I don’t think they’re so bad…Oh! I’m Lavender Brown! Nice to meet you. And this is Faye Arlton beside me.” the black girl who introduced herself gestured to a quiet looking brunette.

“Hullo,” she spoke softly, looking around at them with her head cocked to the side. “Why is Gryffindor red?” she asked suddenly.

“Fire- it’s our Houses’s element.” Jasper answered automatically. He remembered his mother reading Hogwarts; A History to him as a bedtime story when he was younger and thus knew a whole bunch of weird tidbits. It was more than once used as teasing material.

“And what about these other dorms?”

“Houses,” he corrected absently as he fixed her a plate- she wasn’t making one up herself. “Gryffindor is fire, Hufflepuff is earth, Ravenclaw is air and Slytherin is water.”

“If not for some of his grades, one might think ol’ Jasp here was a ‘claw.” Finnegan grinned. He rolled his eyes and pushed her plate closer to her. She eyed it curiously before obediently beginning to eat. Pleased with her compliance, he turned his attention into doing his own plate. Mostly of meats.

“Did you just-?” Parvati just asked, staring at Jasmine’s plate. “Did you just set up her breakfast for her?”

“...Yes?” he answered hesitantly, wondering why a few of his friends stared at him. Seamus was the one who broke the silence and it was with gut-jiggling laughter.

“You’ll make a fine mother one day!” Dean said before also bursting into laughter at his expense.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with it,” he argued hotly but he felt his ears go red and the back of his neck probably.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Lavender told him, “I think it’s sweet.” she smiled warmly and Jasper sighed. He could see the faces of his dormmates and knew there would be teasing.

“What will you do when we have classes?” Neville spoke up, successfully diverting attention for the moment. “And- and what about your actual school?”

“I was homeschooled.” she answered after hastily devouring everything on her plate with a ferocity that impressed Ron. Jasper barely noticed how beastly it was (used to Ron’s eating habits and all) and filled her plate again between bites of his own. “And I’ll be doing self-study while your ilk will be in classes.”

“You’re not going to be enrolled here?”

“That would mess with the tournament and the Ministry still has to flesh out some stuff about her,” Jasper chimed in, filling his sister’s plate again once he saw it empty.

“Where do you put it?” Neville asked suddenly. “Your food,” he clarified when she turned her head his way with those unnerving eyes.

“Presumably in my mouth.” came the succinct reply after staring at him for a moment or two. Then dug into her food again, her brother already moving to fill the rapidly emptying plate again.

“If you eat that quick you’ll be sick,” Seamus said, torn between horror and fascination.

“Nope,” she managed, “Food can’t make me sick, got a stomach of steel,” she told them bluntly before going back to the demolition of any food stuffs on her plate.

“She’ll give Ron a run for his money,” Dean said, nose scrunched up a little. Well, at least now Jasper wouldn’t have to deal with those two trying to flirt with his sister.

“Just because she can outpace me,” Ron spoke up, mouth full of food, “Don’t mean she can eat more.”

“If that’s a challenge, I’ll take it.” she answered, leaning forward a little to stare at him and he looked right back.

“When lunch rolls around?”

“You’re on.” she said, eyes glinting eagerly before turning back to her plate and eating with even more vigor.

“How does that not faze you in the slightest?” Lavender asked, still staring somewhat unwillingly at the small girl demolishing whatever food was set in front of her. She’d never seen anyone eat like that besides Ron and even he wasn’t as…Savage.

“Because it…Doesn’t?” he asked more than said, looking at his sister while she ate. She didn’t talk with her mouth full and her mouth was closed for all of the five seconds it took her to chew and swallow. It wasn’t unsightly, no food sprayed anywhere and all of the food went strictly in her mouth, none on her face. He shrugged.

“Either way, we should get ready for class,” Neville said, not really very hungry after seeing both Ron and Jasmine eating at the same time. Just watching her made him feel full and bloated. Jasper nodded, turning his eyes again to the small girl sitting between the two.

“What will you be doing?” he asked and Neville marveled. Jasper was a loud, brash and usually haughty (Neville would never say it aloud) boy. To see him so docile and tame, even a bit domestic after one afternoon with this girl was astounding. Perhaps it was just the shock of it and it would wear off but for now it was still something amazing to see. She looked at him, swallowing her food before answering. Her voice, Neville mused, was pretty nice sounding. There was a sort of dry scratchy tone to it that was remarkably soothing to hear. Still, he felt like if she were to shout or snarl, that pleasantness would turn into something frightening and ominous. He shook the thoughts off; she was no older than they were, a few minutes younger than both he and Jasper and they were only in their fourth year. Regardless of how she might be intimidating, that didn’t mean she was scary or anything. Or intimidating at all- except maybe to food contests and those who kept diets. He could see Faye looking greenish in the face after all.

“When do they stop giving food?” she asked and he snorted. Jasper glanced at the involuntary noise, shooting him a dimpled grin before his attention was once more wholly focused on the girl.

“In five minutes.” he told her and she paused before shoveling huge amounts of food onto her utensils and viciously clearing her plate one last time before pushing it away. Neville was surprised she didn’t lick it clean but then chided himself for thinking that.

“I’ll walk you to class.” she told them. Neville didn’t think it was a request or even an offer. She would and there would be no denying her but he thought he was the only one to realize it. Jasper smiled and nodded, standing and patting her head a little bit. She blinked up at him curiously before getting up, their friends doing the same. Ron complained a little, even as he continued to stubbornly eat, grabbing rolls to take along the way to class. Jasmine seemed to notice and her hands struck out with alarming speed to grab a few rolls as well and she dipped one in gravy as they were heading down the table, Ron following that example.

“They’re going to be terrible influences on each other.” Dean pointed out, glancing as the two lingered behind them to grab more rolls and biscuits, Ron shoving some in his bag and the girl in the pouch-pocket on her jumper. Jasper sniggered.

“I think it’ll be fine,” Ginny said, looking back again at the girl, pleased that she was no longer the shortest girl in the group. “You figure she always eats like that?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. Sure we’ll learn soon.” Jasper assured them. “Oi, c’mon! Can’t be dawdling too much,” he called back to the two who looked up and hurried along, Ron taking his place on Jasper’s right and Neville scooting so Jasper could hook Jasmine’s arm in his to keep her from trotting back to breakfast if she changed her mind. “Will you be alright then, finding your way back to your rooms or wherever?”

“If I need to, I can call on Malmsi. I’m going to explore a bit.”

“Ah,” Jasper grinned, “If you want, when I have a free block I can take you around too. After lunch I’ll be free.” he offered.

“Okay.” she agreed easily.

xXx

When Jasper next found his sister, he and his friends were by the Great Hall entrance. She was surrounded by Hufflepuffs and The Hufflepuff. Cedric Diggory was talking with her animatedly and she listened compliantly. Jasper was quick to push himself over to his sister, not liking the way they were surrounding her.

“Diggory! I see you’ve found Jasmine.” he greeted cheerily and the man’s attention turned to him after a moment, a polite smile on his face just barely keeping from being straight up Hufflepuff kind. Which was why Cedric Diggory was The Hufflepuff; he couldn’t _not_ be kind and he was happiest when hard at work. Which was interesting because his father was a total prick.

“Yes, she was close to the ah…” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck now sheepishly. With his blond hair and always kind gray eyes, Diggory had a sort of charisma that he wasn’t truly aware of. It was because of this charisma that he couldn’t understand what it was like being a normal teenage boy, hence his unpopularity with most of his male peers. That and girls called him things like ‘dreamy’, ‘dashing’ and ‘perfect’. Competition of the highest order.

“I was in the basement.” Jasmine piped in. “I was going to start with the dungeons but those are more extensive and I thought I’d save it until I have more time.” she said as though she weren’t talking about wandering around in _snake_ territory. Jasper resolved to warn her away from that sketchy area during lunch. His general intent must have shown on his face because Diggory smiled at him sheepishly.

“I told her the dungeons weren’t exactly…A safe place but.” he shrugged helplessly. “I don’t think that I managed to convince her.”

“This tournament isn’t safe. I think looking around a school wouldn’t be so bad in comparison.” and he and Diggory both winced at that casual reminder.

“No, but…How about you avoid the dungeons, yeah? Save them for last since they’re so extensive.” Jasper told her nervously. He didn’t want her down there. She looked to him for a few moments, eyes watching him before she nodded complacently and he relaxed.

She wouldn’t tell him that she would just explore it at night instead. She could just take a pepper-up or nap through the day.

xXx

“Dragons.” he said numbly. “There’s going to be dragons. She’s going to go face to face with a dragon.” he mumbled to himself continuously. His friends winced. When he’d gone out with Hagrid to the forests and come back in a quiet, stricken daze, his friends were quick to pull him aside.

“Dragons? Do you mean…The first task?” Ron spoke up slowly and Jasper’s eyes focused a little and rested on him.

“There are four of them. I’m not sure what they’re doing with them in the task, but there will be dragons.”

And just a few days after he’d finally begun returning to relatively normal, this happens. Neville sighed and shook his head, though he was more than a little alarmed to think there would be dragons.

“I need to tell her,” he said, more focus returning to him as he turned, looking ready to bolt to his sister’s rooms.

“Whoa, whoa mate! Wouldn’t that be cheating?”

“It’s a bloody dragon!” he snapped back, “She wasn’t supposed to even be _in_ this bloody thing, I’m not going to not bloomin’ tell her!” before dashing off. Dean flinched when the portrait slammed shut behind him.

“This is not good.”

He was quick to make his way to his sister’s room, ignoring anyone he was passing by and only pausing when he was in the right corridor to make sure no one was around. They didn’t need to know where she stayed or how to get in. He took a few deep breaths before swiftly gaining entrance and hurrying up the stairs, wishing they were like the ones to Dumbledore’s office that moved by themselves.

“Jasmine!” he called as he almost reached the top, panting as he watched his sister set down a saucer and look over. She had her glasses on instead of those muggle contacts; learning her eyesight was as bad as his and his dad’s was both funny and a little worrying. Learning how one put in these muggle contacts was also kind of worrying but she seemed well versed in it at any rate. Her eyeglasses were dainty rimless pince-nez types. But those weren’t thoughts for now.

“Jasper?” she asked, standing and for a few moments, he just stared at her, trying to regain his breath.

“The first task,” he managed. “Dragons.”

“I know.” she said easily. “Did you run the whole way here?”

“You…You know.”

“Yes. Come sit, you look a bit out of breath.”

Such was how he spent the rest of his day, sitting listlessly on a chaise lounge and staring at his perfectly calm and complacent sister.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was is a lot shorter and I was really into it but I haven't really touched in a while so I'll put this in here too.

Her hands and crawling up her arms was the slick blood of the beast and she cussed herself blue in the face as she pulled venom sacs closer. They were the size of beach balls and so dense and heavy that the twelve year-old almost dropped the slippery things. She set them down delicately, dumping potions over them to keep them from decaying. It was amazing that they hadn’t even begun the process and maybe it was because it was a Basilisk. The library was woefully void of much information on them and she didn’t want her order history questioned given the recent going-ons at school.

She might have gotten into Ravenclaw but the Hat had wanted Slytherin. Besides, Mimoza has always been a little…Over worried, she decided, of being scrutinized like her sister was. Oh, Marigold liked the attention just fine and she never had anything to hide so it worked for her just fine but Mimoza was different. She winced for a moment, thinking that. She’d never _meant_ to be different.

She shook those thoughts away and set to milking the glands of venom- she already had the fang carefully preserved and covered so the venom wouldn’t hurt her again. The fang that broke off in her arm, she-

No, don’t think about that she chided herself. She didn’t know how long it would take to get all of the venom out, so left it with the highly charmed and reinforced bucket she _might_ have stolen from Filch’s office. The scent of even the small amount that already filled it was enough to make her woozy with memories that she hurriedly shoved back. Instead, she set on extracting the other fang. Maybe she’d give it to Snape, even if he hated her. Not like she needed to sign it or anything. But then, he might know it was from her anyhow and realize that she went back down to the Chamber and fiddled with the extremely dangerous dead Basilisk. She had already been in enough trouble when Fawkes managed to drag her and Marigold from the Chamber.

Of course, they gave Marigold all the credit for what happened, their parents did. Dumbledore didn’t look convinced, not by the way his sparkling eyes looked to her like he knew instinctively. Since their parents and Paddy had already woven their own grand story of what they thought probably happened, Mimoza didn’t bother correcting them. They were Gryffindors after all and she’d long since learned to associate anyone with that House to have specific personalities with one of the most defining trait being a mull-headed irrational stubbornness. So when Marigold woke up remembering nothing (that was understandable, having been possessed most of the time and unconscious the rest of it) they took it as justification for their story.

The diary with the soul in it wasn’t mentioned. Instead, Marigold had apparently found out the cause of the petrifications and ran to stop it because it had stolen Mimoza. Marigold then managed to find out where the Chamber was and fought and slayed the Basilisk after it attacked Mimoza.

There was no real fact to it but they had clearly believed in it.

Instead it was that damnable diary that stole Marigold and the whispers in the walls led Mimoza to it. She fought a Basilisk (ran mostly), the Sorting Hat was dropped to her and she pulled out a silver sword embedded with rubies and promptly stuck it through the roof of the Basilisk’s mouth. In doing so, a fang had pierced right through her arm. The venom was quick to start acting but she made sure to stab that diary too, making sure that if _she_ died, _he_ did as well. She could even say she was kind of accepting her upcoming death when Fawkes was crying onto her.

She was still amazed that Fawkes had done that, still so grateful it made her want to rip her own heart out to give to the bird. She felt like that might counteract the whole thing though.

And then Marigold was spitting up and coughing, waking and turning. She was still pale and shaking but she was alive and for that, Mimoza was relieved. And then before either girl could say anything, Fawkes was transporting them in a fiery show and strange distortion so unlike any sort of magical travel Mimoza had ever been subjected to. Then they were in the Headmaster’s office. She didn’t much like remembering the riot that happened after and both girls were promptly sent to the Hospital Wing.

Exhaustion mostly, the both of them since Fawkes tears helped her own injuries though the Matron had stared at Mimoza with pursed lips. A physical examination, thankfully, wasn’t needed as the initial scans didn’t show Mimoza to have any scrapes or bruises that was in direct conflict with the rips and tears in her clothing and the dried blood beneath the dust of rubble and grime from the abandoned chamber. She rubbed at her arm absently. That didn’t mean she didn’t have a new, large starburst-shaped scar. She would be wearing long sleeves for the foreseeable future. And since Marigold didn’t remember anything, she didn’t need any Mind Healers.

She wondered if they’d even thought Mimoza would need it, even if it did go as they thought. She would have been kidnapped and attacked by a Basilisk and wouldn’t that need counseling surely? She was glad she didn’t need it, who knows what they’d find in her head after all but _still_. It hurt that they disregarded her entirely for Marigold, like it always did. She didn’t think they did it on purpose but…

Well no matter now was there? It was done and over with she told herself.

xXx

Dementors were…Not the best thing for her to deal with. She found that out when Pettigrew escaped Azkaban somehow and Dementors were set loose on school grounds. All her worst memories…

She avoided people that year, spending as much time as she could alone after she had happened upon a Dementor near her. She just felt lucky it left her alone after she passed out, and that _she_ was alone when it’d come near her. They seemed drawn to her though so she made sure she was always alone so that no one could see her weakness. It didn’t do her very much good; she lost a good deal of her appetite and she didn’t eat in the Hall. Thankfully, she was easy to overlook and always had been a bit distant from her fellow Housemates. She was unable to shake off one particular boy though. He was called Loony by most of their Housemates but aside from his dazed demeanor, he didn’t bother her. Besides he’d found her after a Dementor got too close this year and had simply stayed with her until she woke and gave her chocolate frogs. Well, he stayed with her when she was awake and twitchy too but still. He talked about odd things sometimes but he edged her onto his father’s paper, and she _did_ enjoy The Quibbler, much more than she did The Daily Prophet. London Lovegood was a…Friend.

She had a few of those of course but London was different. Pleasantly so, she decided, unlike her usual differentness. She used her strangeness and her (supposedly) creepy stare to ward off the worst of his tormentors. London’s only comment on her eyes, conversely, had been cryptic and she thought he might have referenced a Beetle and the Bard story but who knows with him.

“He’s a bit of an oddball,” Marigold mused one day, having kidnapped her sister from where she’d not been _brooding_ thank you very much. Mimoza twisted her lips at her red-haired sister (she’d always been a little jealous of her sister’s well behaved colorful hair) disapprovingly.

“He’s not an oddball.”

“But he really is! He wears weird things and they say he’s loony!”

 _“Lockhart_ was loony. London is just different.”

“What was wrong with Lockhart?” Marigold frowned and Mimoza scoffed, shaking her head before scowling because that, of course, made her hair attempt to burst free from her carefully maintained plait.

“Lockhart was a total quack, useless as boots with no sole.” she pointed out. He’d ran off their second year, then managed to convince his lovestruck fans that he’d been called to help some other country disperse of a nundu problem they were having, even though nothing of the sort was happening. “I really don’t think he even had a teaching license.”

“Oh, you’re just being contrary!” Marigold scoffed, scowling now. Mimoza rolled her eyes and got up, collecting her things. Whenever her sister got into these moods, it was best to just leave. She, like their mother, tended to get stuck on an opinion and refused anything that pointed otherwise. “Where are you going?”

“The library.” she said flatly because that was always enough to make her bullheaded sister back off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been a while. So now this is here.

She hummed, swinging her legs back and forth as she read the large book set up on her lap. Her cousin and his aunt trembled where they sat in the room, Dudley still crying. Of course- losing both Vernon and Petunia must have been a huge shock to the two of them. She glanced at them idly before returning her attention to the much more fascinating book. It would take a few days before Aunt Marge would explode on her about her nonchalant attitude to their deaths and to raise her hand to the small girl. It would take another few days for the woman to wake up- the doctors had said she'd collapsed from grief and exhaustion but she knew better- she knew better, she did!

She left the girl to her own devices then, too afraid to speak to her directly and did her best to shelter the two children whilst mourning for her sweet darling brother.

xXx

She kicked her feet, almost eleven now. She was currently helping her cousin with a summer assignment- they got along rather well, considering how terrified Aunt Marge was of her and how often she tried to keep the two of them separate. But without his parents' toxic influence Dudley was _much_ nicer than he was before. He didn't call her freak anymore and sometimes gave her some of the chocolate Aunt Marge would get him. Then she glanced up, along with her cousin as Marge crept in the room, her wide eyes fearfully on the black haired girl. She'd lost a good deal of her weight since their death and her hospitalization- Poppy could see her jawline and her wrists now, and her sturdy build was more robust than simply being large. In her manicured hands she held a letter. She gently set it on the table before scurrying off. Poppy tilted her head to the side, petting Ripper on her lap. He was a good dog now that Marge wasn't ordering him to chase her. The other dogs she bred were also very well behaved- Aunt Marge certainly did know what she was doing in training and breeding, had a real knack for it. She stopped her petting and the bulldog looked up at her as she took the letter to see that it had an odd crest.

Turning it over, she frowned at the green lettering. How did they know she slept in the third largest room? That was quite strange, almost worrying. Nevertheless, she tore it open to pull out...Some sort of stationary maybe? Certainly not paper at any rate. Ignoring that, she read the foreword before frowning a bit more and turning to the list of things she would need. She set the things down, wondering at it before shrugging and pushing them away to continue helping her curious cousin.

Later in the day, after giving the many bulldogs their scrubbing and food she went to find Marge. In the large countryside home it wasn't hard to find her- she was staring from a sunroom longingly over to Mr. Fulbuster's house.

“Aunt Marge,” she called and the woman jumped. Before, Poppy remembered her as a large beefy woman- loud and mean and violent. After her brother's death she had lost weight, her graying hair had gotten more so and her mustache had disappeared. She took better care of herself now though and she'd more than once heard the woman mutter about keeping strong and healthy for Dudders.

“P-P-Potter!” she startled and Poppy was brought back to the present.

“Someone will be coming here in a week or so to talk about going to a boarding school.” she told the woman. She nodded hesitantly. Poppy nodded, more to herself, before smiling and trotting off. The woman relaxed her posture after she'd left the room letting out a gust of breath. If she could send the girl off to a boarding school and away from her, she was all for it no matter the expense. Shaking herself from her stupor, she returned her gaze out towards Wallace's house. She sighed.

Oh, how she wished he would look her way...

xXx

Marge had declined going with and had forbade Dudley so it was only Poppy and her guide. Professor Sinistra seemed a nice, competent woman though so Poppy was glad for that. Of course learning she was a witch and that her parents were witch and wizard were far more exciting. Marge had been eerily pale throughout the explanation but had hastily agreed to have her go when Sinistra began to explain the dangers of having her magic go untrained in the next few years. Even better, her parents had left a trust Vault for her and that she no doubt had more Vaults from her father's side.

That was good at least, she'd gotten used to living a fairly comfortable life even if she didn't get expensive presents and snacks like Dudley. She did have access to the study and thus books Marge kept and a large room all to herself that she got to decorate as she liked. And her own rather posh clothing, unlike when she lived with her own maternal Aunt and her husband. Walking through a dirty, rowdy pub called The Leaky Cauldron had her shift just a bit closer to the Professor who seemed thoroughly unimpressed by their current surroundings. The tall woman ignored the calls and Poppy stuck close to her, brushing down her bangs like the woman had told her to before they went in. It was only towards the exit that she stopped, and for a tall reedy looking man in a purple turban.

“M-M-Ms. Sinistra! Escorting a s-s-s-student?” he greeted nervously, fiddling with his thin gloves. Leather perhaps Poppy thought, in a pale creamy color. Nice looking at least. “O-Only one this time?”

“Indeed, Mr. Quirrell. This is Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.” she introduced, waving her hand towards the man.

“It's nice to meet you, sir. I'm Poppy Potter.” she watched the way his dark eyes shot to her forehead, only for a second before he offered a shaky smile and his hand. She took it- his grip was of a confident man, yet the rest of his demeanor was not.

“T-the pleasure i-is mine I assure y-you.”

“We'd best head off before the rush comes. Mr. Quirrell.” Sinistra nodded to him again.

“Ms. Sinistra, M-Ms. Potter.” he responded in kind and Poppy offered a wave at the man and a smile because regardless, he was going to be her professor soon. Sinistra tapped a few bricks in the back alley and she watched in fascination as they fell away to reveal a busy and brightly colored world.

xXx

After having had an absolutely smashing time at the bank (those carts were something else and she may have laughed all the way down in delight), they were getting her robes. Being sized for them, she was made to stand on a small dais. It was here that she had her first conversation with another to-be student. He spoke of 'their sort' in distaste, about bullying his father into getting him a broom even if there were rules against it and of proudly going to Slytherin as all his family had done before him. She eyed him curiously- this boy seemed awfully spoilt and reminded her of Dudley before the accident. But maybe that was just her imagination- still, she remained quiet for his tirade and didn't offer much in conversation though he seemed pleased enough to hear his own voice. His robes were finished before hers and he hopped down, looking at her directly for the first time.

“I'm Draco Malfoy, by the way.” he said and she wondered that he waited until their conversation was over more or less to actually introduce himself. Professor Sinistra instructed her to avoid telling her last name if she could and if the boy didn't ask for it she wasn't inclined to give it. She offered her hand and he took it with a sharp grin.

“Well, I'll be seeing you in Hogwarts then, er...”

“Poppy.”

And he eyed her for a moment before shrugging and leaving without any more fuss or even a good bye. She huffed to herself. How rude! The professor was waiting for her and had very kindly gotten her an ice-cream cone.

“Consider it a birthday present- though don't expect anything beyond this. I _am_ your professor.” she said and Poppy smiled.

“Yes ma'am- thank you.”

And then they were in a bookstore and she almost felt like she would bounce off the walls. She was let loose and she shred through the store hungrily. It was a thorough inspection of all of the books she could get her hands on and she was glad for the extra money from her trust fund. She was brought up short when she saw her name on the cover of a thin book. Eyeing the other paperbacks around it, she was dismayed to see her name and the title Professor Sinistra had told her about. Naturally she grabbed one of each to better assess what this new exciting world had theorized about her- and weren't there laws about things like this? She knew there were in the muggle world about minors and publicity. Beyond that though, she got books for everything- law books, etiquette books, history books (she got quite a lot of those) theoretical books on subjects she'd never heard of, books on magical creatures and beings and books on the Ministry. Whatever she could get her hands on. In the end, she needed a cart and the person at the register had very kindly given her (with a little extra fee) a heavily charmed bag to hold all of them in one neat little bag and it was quite light. Her guide expressed amusement at the amount of books disappearing into the bag and muttered something about roosts and ravens? And then they, she and her guide, moved on.

Deciding between a bird or cat was more difficult than she thought it would be but she was immediately drawn to a pretty white owl- there were no bars on her pure white feathers and intelligent amber eyes glowed at her.

She was named Hesperia. Besides, having a cat around all of Marge’s dogs was just begging for an incident.

The apothecary held her interest a bit later and she may have gotten a bit zealous in her purchases of ingredients that she, frankly, didn't know the uses for yet. And- how could she ignore a _golden_ cauldron? There was just no way she could. Even if it'll simply sit in her room gleaming and bright while she's in school, she _would_ have one. But then after a few more stops, she was getting her wand.

xXx

She kicked her feet excitedly, a number of thick books spread and open around her as she did her best to absorb as much knowledge as she could before having to go to school. Practicing wand movements with a twig in the backyard before throwing it to the dogs (of whom Hesperia was vastly condescending to- Poppy could just see it in the owl's eyes) or spending most of her time reading. Or having bought a Bunsen burner and practicing potions things- she may or may not have bought a few extra potions kits than she really needed and _may_ or _may_ not have gotten two of them that were meant for someone more experienced with potions but she was determined not to go in blind in any way. Reading on theories was all fun and good but it was the practice with the majority of her subjects that worried her.

Still- practicing writing with a quill and ink pot, charmed and magical as they were, was probably the most challenging thing. And with parchment! She would naturally be bringing many notebooks and colored pens and all of that but she would need to perfect parchment and quills for actual assignments. When her cousin Dudley would sneak about and ask her about her new books (and that shiny golden pot- she didn't bother correcting him), she cheerfully told him all about the things she was studying and the boarding school she would be attending.

And then shared snickers and giggles with him over the books about her.

She would be asking someone, at some point, about all of that and if she could take some sort of legal action either way. Maybe if she gave an interview like she sometimes saw on the telly, then some of these wild speculations would die out. Or she could get some of the money they were making off of her name.

xXx

Making her way onto Platforms 9¾ was interesting- but what was on the other side was more so. Seeing a bright, cherry red steam train gleaming and the platform packed with people- quite a number of those people in robes- made her smile widely.

She herself was dressed in one of her prettier dresses- purple and dainty and she tugged her trunk along on a cart behind her, Hesperia's cage set atop it as she moved through the bustle of people. Her wild mane of thick black hair was separated into two low bushy pigtails as usual and her bright red earrings were the same color as the train she was delighted to notice. Seeing as she didn't actually know anyone, she made her way right onto the train and immediately found an empty compartment near the middle of the train but closer to the end. Getting her trunk up and stowed away after pulling her carry bag from it and letting Hesperia out of her cage (she perched by the open window, glaring out at the sea of people) she cracked open one of her books.

She wasn't sure how long she had sat reading while Hesperia shifted to start preening through her pigtails, but her door slid open. She looked up, as did Hesperia.

Her head cocked to the side as a boy glanced about the compartment, eyes alighting on her. “O-oh, um...Can I sit here please?” he asked nervously and she smiled. Thus she made her first friend in Eddie Carmichael who would be a Second Year. She happily shared her books with him until they were interrupted when the door slid open again.

“Excuse me, have you seen a toad?” came the demand. Both she and the curly-haired blond looked up- the girl standing there had a frizzy bush of brown hair and stood in an imposing stance. Behind her was a tearful round-faced boy with dirty blond hair and big dark brown eyes. “Neville here has lost his.”

“You could ask a Prefect- they might know a point-me spell.” Eddie spoke up even as the girl looked around- it was a mess of open books, Hesperia perched up with the trunks and Eddie's cat rolled on the floor.

“Oh! Thank you, I suppose we'll try that next. I'm Hermione Granger.” she stuck out her hand and Poppy carefully moved her book from her lap to stand and take the offered hand.

“Hullo. I'm Poppy- and that's Eddie- he'll be a Second Year but I'm going to be a firstie.”

“Oh! So will we! Be first years I mean.” she smiled widely and Poppy took note of the overbite. “Oh! Pardon me, this is Neville Longbottom.”

“Hullo.” Poppy waved and the boy offered a shy wave back. “Well I hope you find your toad.” and he nodded, tearful and tremulous again.

“Er- say, when we get Trevor back, would you mind terribly if we joined you?” the girl asked. “Trevor being the toad, that is.”

At this she looked to Eddie to see if he had any problems. He only shrugged so she offered a grin at the girl.

“Gladly! We'll make space in the meantime.”

“Brilliant!” and with that and a final wave, they went off to try to find a prefect.

“Look at that, not even two hours and I've already made three friends.” she said, pleased with herself.

“I don't know, that girl seemed awful bossy to me...”

“She's just an unrefined leader is all- some polishing and perfecting and I'm sure she'll have her own mass of followers.”

“I think she was a muggleborn though.”

And _that_ prompted a conversation on pureblood supremacy and privileges- Eddie himself was a Pureblood and Poppy was technically a Halfblood even though both her parents were magical. It wasn't so rampant, the bigotry that no muggleborns ever received positions of power but it was noticeably more difficult the higher up it goes.

After a little while, the brunette and her friend came back. Hermione was definitely a muggleborn- her parents were dentists and Neville was a Pureblood.

“So what House do you think you'll be in?”

“I was hoping for Gryffindor.” she said as she tore her eyes from the book she was reading from. Poppy didn't mind sharing her books so long as they didn't get damaged.

“Really?” Neville spoke up, looking at her. “I thought you might have thought about Ravenclaw.”

“Well, I did but...Well, I think I could make it into Gryffindor.” she said strongly. “Bravery, nerve, chivalry, courage and daring.” she recited. Poppy's immediate thought was that she was a by-the-books sort. Ravenclaws were known bookworms but one of Ravenclaw's traits was originality, another being creativity. Poppy didn't want to say she knew this girl that well but...Well no matter. Certainly not like Poppy knew how to deduce who would be in what House or anything. “What about you Neville?”

“My parents were in Gryffindor.”

“Well okay, but what House do you want to be in?” she asked and he blinked a bit.

“I suppose I want to be in Gryffindor like them.”

At this, her and Eddie both shared a glance. She shrugged and so did he.

“What about you Poppy?”

“I think I'll probably be in Ravenclaw. If not, maybe Hufflepuff.” she said easily.

“Dedication, hard work, fair play, patience, kindness, tolerance and loyalty.” Hermione immediately recited. “That does sound like a nice House to be in.” she smiled at the other girl, her overbite showing. “Their dorms are in the basement- Slytherin is in the dungeons and the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws have towers.”

“You know where the dorms are?” Neville asked.

“Just those general locations.” she demurred slightly before straightening up. “But say, don't you think it's just amazing? I've been reading about some of the charms and spells and even _wards_ they have at Hogwarts and-”

Once more they were interrupted, just as Hermione Granger looked to be firing up an enthusiastic discussion on the charms affecting Hogwarts. A freckled red-haired boy blinked at them, looked at their books and made a face.

“Sorry, but- can I sit with you lot?”

Poppy eyed him. His robes looked a little...Subpar, and there was a smudge of dirt on his nose. Hermione's eyes snapped to her and Eddie. She glanced at him and he hummed.

“No problem! The more the merrier right? I'm Eddie Carmichael- I'll be going for my second year.”

“But us three, we'll be going for our first- will you be as well?” Hermione asked though her nose scrunched up a little as she noticed the dirt on his face.

“Yeah- I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley.”

“I'm Hermione Granger- this is Neville Longbottom and that over there is Poppy...”

“Just Poppy really,” she said with a smile. Hermione frowned but Ron just shrugged, plopping down in a seat after Eddie moved a few books.

“I'll suppose you all like reading then?” he asked a bit dryly.

“Well you can never stop learning,” Eddie smiled. “Say, what House did you want to be in? I think I know there are some Weasleys in Gryffindor...”

“My brothers,” Ron explained, “I've got five older brothers and a little sister. And we'll be in Gryffindor- me this year and my sister Gin next year.”

“I see. Well I'm in Ravenclaw- Poppy here is a hopeful of my House, and these two are also aiming for Gryffindor.”

“With all these books, I thought you’d _all_ be Ravenclaws.”

“Just because we might like to read doesn’t automatically make us Ravenclaws.” Hermione chided, huffing. Ron’s lips twisted doubtfully but he shrugged and let it go. Not like they had a say in which House they went to anyways.

This was how Poppy made friends her age that weren’t Dudley. The kids in primary knew she was different and had tended to stay away.

xXx

“He’s got quite the forehead.”

“Eddie!” Hermione chided as Ron sniggered beside the blond.

“And he looks like a ghost!” the ginger added on. Poppy smiled a little bit, Neville quiet among them nervously before Eddie waved his farewell and they moved to Hagrid.

“That’s so rude Ronald!” Hermione went on and the boy rolled his eyes, already aggravated. “You shouldn’t make fun of someone else’s looks! Especially when you’ve got dirt on your face!”

“What?” he snapped blue eyes to her, turning to Poppy and Neville with a frown. “Do I really?”

“I thought you knew.” Poppy shrugged and Ron muttered under his breath, using the sleeve of his robe to scrub at his face. “But you probably shouldn’t make fun of him if you hadn’t met him yet.”

“You said you knew him?”

“I met him when I was getting my school robes. Honestly he seemed a little annoying but I didn’t really talk to him that much. Name’s Draco Malfoy.”

Ron snorted a little in his robe, hiding another snigger and Hermione shot him an annoyed look for it.

“Malfoy? Gran doesn’t like that family too much, says they’re…Well.” Neville trailed off shyly. “No good.” he managed to say.

“No good? What does that mean?”

“Not really sure, but his father’s on the Board of Governors- oh! Wait, you didn’t hear that from me!”

“Why not?”

“The Board of Governors is supposed to be anonymous.” Hermione explained patiently. “But I guess for some it’s an open secret…”

“Well we can worry about that later, let’s go.” Ron huffed, leading them along.


	4. Captive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, another. This one has Lucius.

She had thought after winning the war that things like this wouldn’t happen to her anymore. That the left over Death Eaters would have been properly wrangled and thrown in Azkaban or sentenced to the Kiss. She was wrong.

She’d been out in the muggle world, looking for interesting toys to entertain Teddy with when she got him in a few days. She had more or less joint custody of him with his grandmother; Harry couldn’t bear the thought of trying to take away her grandson after all she lost. She’d been out in the muggle world so had been more relaxed than she could have been, a little less wary than she would have been and whole _lot_ less prepared than she should have been when she felt a hand grab her. She cursed her stupidity in thinking she would be safe in the muggle world, for thinking that they would have caught any stragglers so easily but not keeping track. She cursed that Voldemort had happened at all, that she couldn’t escape him even now. Mostly, she cursed Lucius goddamn Malfoy.

xXx

He sat at a small desk, dressed neatly but certainly not in the quality that he was used to she could tell. He did not look uncomfortable in these garbs, he didn’t look angry, he wasn’t sneering, he really wasn’t even paying attention to her now. He was disturbingly human looking at the moment, reading the paper casually if not absentmindedly as he picked at his breakfast between articles. She had come to in this room, arms and hands chained and her ankles as well. They were of some high quality; they were charmed to ensure comfort but not mobility and she wondered where they’d gotten them if Malfoy was wearing those clothes and they were here in this quaint looking little room together. She had been alone when she had first woken up. Alone and partially laying in the bed she was in now with its soft diamond quilted pattern in dark blue, the cushy pillows and the heavy curtains drawn back. She was not hurt, not scraped, bruised or even aching.

Instead, she had been furious and especially horrified when she realized they had changed her clothing into some sort of flowy sleep garment and that she didn’t wear unders under them. She had also been rendered mute- she was sure it wasn’t a permanent curse though since Malfoy had allowed her to speak once. Of course, all she did was snarl and curse and spit out insults and promises so that was short lived.

But when she had initially woken alone in the small room it wasn’t that long before Malfoy had entered, already pulling his outer robe off to neatly hang up on a hook on the door. He had not looked at her right away, instead taking care of taking off his boots, socks, gloves and taking the ribbon from his hair. Only for a moment, only for him to brush through it with his fingers absently before tying it back again. He just looked like a man going about his daily routine and it had greatly unnerved her. When he’d finally turned to her in his plain white shirt and crisp black trousers, he’d examined her for a quiet moment before greeting her quietly.

He was not showcasing what she thought someone who kidnapped their slain master’s killer should be. Instead, she felt awkward about seeing this apparently intimate life of the runaway Lucius Malfoy. It had to have been a few weeks since then, that first time.

She still hated this, hated it all and was bitterer than she would ever admit. Just as she would never admit that she was getting a little antsy. Her purpose there still hadn’t been explained and they went about their days. She locked on the bed besides using the loo or shower or the occasion where Lucius would deem her docile enough for the time to let her use a muggle elliptical. He’d said something about trophies or something and weakening muscles. She’d wanted to point out- shout really- that she wouldn’t be weakening her muscles if she weren’t chained to the goddamn bed. There would be no point.

“They’re still searching for you quite heartily.” he told her easily. “They won’t find you but they are doing their damnedest to.”

There was nothing she could say to that, what with her voice gone. She could still scowl at him hatefully, as she always did when he brought that up. He didn’t sound arrogant when he said they wouldn’t find her, never did. Stated it like one might say that Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald; like it was an irrefutable fact. She wished for the sharp, ruthless man she’d been sure Lucius Malfoy was. It would be better than this totally calm, almost serene man. She knew he wasn’t the only one in on her heist, but he was the only one she saw, the only one to interact with her. He _hand-fed_ her. He made small talk, chatted about this happening or that, little things that really told her nothing. He didn’t speak about his family either. Or where they were, or what he was doing when he wasn’t in this room with her.

Nothing important, nothing she could use.

xXx

She sighed, murmuring in her sleep and shifting at the admittedly nice feeling of hands stroking up her legs. She had missed the feeling of large hands, missed intimate attentions. Not that she ever had much time or many suitors she had entertained though this was not so much by choice as much by circumstance. She feel into deeper sleep soon after, not realizing that those hands had been very real.

xXx

She stepped clumsily, scowling at the gentle way Lucius led her along after helping her balance herself. She was temporarily made blind as he led her somewhere and she was tense. Were they finally going to do what she had been kidnapped for? But then she was feeling something she hadn’t in a long while- a breeze. The spell against her vision lifted and she had to blink rapidly to try and adjust a little easier to the sudden light. She was still in cuffs, her arms tautly pulled behind her back and she was still a captive but there was a sudden surge of such gratitude that it almost crushed her chest. They were in a meadow, standing just outside of a doorway and it was beautiful. The greens and then the sky was an intense, deep blue with pretty picturesque clouds and far from them was the edges of what she felt might be a forest and she ached at how beautiful it was.

“I thought you might enjoy a bit of variation to our usual days.” she barely heard Lucius say. That they had usual days at all was a punch to the gut but she could barely feel it, too entranced with the breeze and then the feeling of soft grass between her toes when Lucius gently helped her step down and into the meadow proper. They were both barefoot and she stared at her feet, then at what she could see of her legs. She wasn’t pale like Lucius, not the blinding white when she glanced at his toes but she was certainly not used to being this pale. Her skin took to the sun and the sun took to her, usually giving her a dusky sun-kissed glow. This dulling of her skin wasn’t the only difference to her body since she’d been taken. Even though it’d not been that long, she was gaining a bit of weight to her scrawny skinny body and the oils and shampoos in her and Lucius’ bathroom had made her hair seem much softer and manageable. He’d also cut the locks two days in so they only just brushed against her jaw. She didn’t mind as much as she’d nonverbally insisted she did; she’d been meaning to chop it off and likely she would have butchered it.

She hated this Lucius Malfoy more than she hated the one she thought she knew during the war. He was human and sometimes she would forget what he was capable of. Oh, she would feel the normal aggravation and bitterness from having been kidnapped away and chained up. But she would forget just how ruthless he could be and silently snarl and snark and when she could, kick or hit him. She had also bitten him more than once, left the imprint of her teeth in his skin. He took all of it in stride, probably made easier to do given that she had been reduced to pitiful attempts like that.

She breathed in slowly, reveling in the crisp air. And then was distracted because a huge fluff of a cat was rubbing against her bare leg and meowing at her. She wished her arms were free to pick up this behemoth or to pet him and her shoulders twitched. Lucius stooped to pick him up instead, holding the large thing against a broad chest and likely getting fur embedded in his ironed shirt.

“He’s been coming around since you arrived, sitting out here by the door.” Lucius told her, contemplating the cat in his arms. “He’s not a magical breed, even though he seems like he would be. We’ve taken to calling him Rusty.”

He would talk sometimes about what ‘they’ or ‘we’ did or said. Never who they were, never how many of them there were; undoubtedly other escaped Death Eaters. She turned her attention onto the cat instead. She could see why they’d call him that- his fur certainly did the name credit in color.

“We were also thinking it might make it a bit more comfortable if perhaps, he stayed with us in our room.”

Yes, their room. She didn’t know where he slept, since she always fell asleep before him and woke up after him but was sure it wasn’t on the bed. Her bed. Hers because everything else was _theirs,_ hers and Lucius’s combined.

“If we were to do this however, it would require your arms being unbound. We are still of two minds about it; one method would simply be to keep your cuffs on and extend the chains. It is the more popular option.” he went on, unaware of her thoughts. She hoped anyways, he’d made no claim or obvious clues that he might be using any sort of Legillimency on her but she wasn’t an expert. He glanced at her and she thought that he looked much younger in the sunlight like this, barefoot and in casual wear. Deep loathing welled up in her stomach, making it twist angrily. “The other option…Involves a collar that will shock you when you do certain undesirable things.”

And just like that, her quiet seething turned into an inferno of fury and she very near didn’t stop herself from lunging at him, restrained arms or not. He glanced at her through his pale pale lashes. “That option is unlikely to ever come to fruition.” he pet the cat in his arms, even as the cat tried to push himself from Lucius’ chest to sniff at her face. “Still, the decision had not yet been made so for now Rusty will remain waiting.”

xXx

Three months into her capture, Rusty was allowed in with them this time and when she was hooked back to the bed after a brief trip to the loo, the chains were loose enough for her to stretch her arms in front of her. Lucius no longer had to feed her, though he still ate sitting by her side and now keeping Rusty off the bed so he wouldn’t swipe any food.

xXx

Lucius was in a mood today, it was in the tense lines of his shoulders and back. It took him a little longer to complete his usual disrobing and when he pulled his hair free, he didn’t bother putting it up again before slumping into his chair, elbows on his knees and rubbing at his jaw in agitation. She’d never seen him look quite so inelegant and disheveled since the capture. It has been, what Harry figures must be, a good five months since her capture. She was beginning to think her friends weren’t going to find her but still valiantly pushed the thoughts away.

“They are talking of moving to another safehouse.” he said after some time. She startled, shifting a little where she lay and waking Rusty who’d taken to sleeping and napping lazily on her legs. “Should that happen, we would no longer have our midday excursions and you would be confined to our room for at least another two months after the initial move. Your arms would be bound again.” his leg was bouncing now.

xXx

Two days after that, Lucius surprised her with a dinner in the meadow. She learned that it’s been half a year rather than five months. “We won’t be moving to the other safe house.” he said quietly after they’d eaten and begun watching the stars show up. Harry would never admit she felt any sort of relief. He gave her a glass of wine; she’d been hesitant but had gradually warmed to the idea and sipped when he tipped it to her. Her arms when they went outside were still tightly bound but now they were in front of her, much more comfortably. She hated that she seemed safe enough now to allow these sorts of liberties. The wine made her feel better and Lucius had absently told her it was some rare elf wine or something. All she knew was that it was incredibly potent as he tenderly helped her stand, then scooped her into his arms when she staggered a little. It was testament to just how much she drank of that wine (the full bottle was almost gone and she was pretty sure Lucius only had a glass and a half) that she did nothing to protest. She didn’t encourage it, didn’t snuggle into him, nothing like that but she was content enough to be carried back to bed. Well maybe to the loo first but still.

When she dreamed that night, the hands didn’t just caress her legs- they teased around her breasts, pressed long fingers into her rounded hips and she might swear someone else’s hair tickled at her neck.

xXx

Eight months. Nine months. Ten months. She was beginning to think she would never leave. She pet Rusty absently as she waited for Lucius to come back. She didn’t notice at first. Not until she fell asleep and woke up twice and the need to use the loo was strong that Lucius still hadn’t come back. Terror roiled in her and she had to lean over the bed at least twice to vomit what was in her stomach and dry-heave, because she was dependent on him right now. She was almost dropping off again, the beginnings of hunger pangs making her more open to sleeping again when the door banged open and she almost wet herself as she jumped and Rusty hissed angrily.

“I’m so sorry, something came up I didn’t mean to leave you darling,” came the rush of words before she was being unbound and set into the bathroom. She was more than confused, angry as well but for the moment too relieved to be back in this little room to use the loo and to bathe herself. She wasn’t sure how long it’d been that he’d been gone. As soon as she was out of the loo, hair still wet and skin pleasantly warm and damp beneath another of those flowy sleeping gowns Lucius was crowding her. His hands fluttered about her, checking her over. The smell of acrid sitting sick was gone and a pleasant vanilla smell coated the room very faintly. The bedding was all refreshed and fluffy again and the window was open slightly. “Did no one come while I was away?”

She shook her head because to be entirely honest- she had missed him. He was the only one she saw in the last how long and suddenly having him gone without warning had sent her into a dark spiral of emotions she would never, ever talk about. If she would ever actually _talk_ again anyways. Lucius hissed derogatives under his breath. Not at her as he stroked over her face gently, through her hair and down her back as he held her in a loose but notably protective hug.

He, as always, smelled pleasant. She wished he didn’t.

“Soft foods, soft foods for at least a week,” he muttered to himself.

xXx

She stared at the little ring on her equally little hand. This was new. But preferred, since the cuffs were all gone.

“You can’t leave the room without me and only to our meadow.” Lucius was saying but she was just marveling over seeing her arms so clearly. They were paler where the cuffs had been naturally but it was such a contrast. Her wrists, she noticed then, were a little plumper than she remembered them ever being. She pressed her hands against her body, feeling the pleasant bit of squishy softness. She wasn’t chubby, but she felt like maybe she wasn’t quite as scrawny. She wouldn’t entirely know, since there were no mirrors she’d seen thus far. She didn’t entirely mind but it bothered her sometimes, when she let herself think about such a trivial thing as compared to trying to get back to her friends. If they even thought she was still alive. No, but the Weasley clock would let them know she was alive wouldn’t it? “It won’t shock you, but it will immediately bring you back to this room and keep you here if you try to escape.”

Then she threw herself on the bed to more easily stretch and hear all of the satisfying cracks she could as she bent in whatever positions she was able to stretch herself. So pleased to have this mobility, she didn’t even think about how she might appear. She still was never given underthings and the usual flowy sleep gowns were awfully thin. And so distracted by this new freedom, she did not see the way Lucius watched her.

xXx

She woke slowly, blearily looking about. Lucius glanced at her from where he sat on the ground beside her. They’d made their way all the way to the trees and had been lounging in the afternoon sun before she had apparently fallen asleep. She wiped a line of drool as she pushed herself up then set to rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. He closed his book, setting it down to turn to her properly.

“Perhaps we should set up a hammock over here. You looked like a particularly content cat, napping out here.” he smiled and she hated that it made her want to smile in return. He pushed her hair behind her ear, hand lingering on her cheek. “It looks about ready to cut again. As pretty as it is long.” he added. He had been growing more comfortable in touching her like that and making comments like that. Harry didn’t mind. Lucius was the only person she’d been around in a year and a half and she had always liked physical affection, despite that she didn’t trust most with that privilege. She didn’t trust Lucius, not one bit.

But he had yet to harm her. Yet to spit anything insulting and had seen to most of her basic living needs.

She did not forget her circumstance. Only ever seeing this meadow and their rooms ensured that. Still having the pale strips where her cuffs used to be ensured that. Having had no contact but Lucius since her incarceration ensured that.

She hated that she was dependent on him so much. That she saw him not as Lord Malfoy, Voldemort’s Death Eater lap dog but as Lucius and part of her was still hissing that it was a trick but she didn’t want to believe his seeming concern was. She still didn’t know why she was here. Why she was still alive. Maybe they realized she can’t quite manage to die properly and instead plan on having her isolated until she dies naturally? But Lucius would likely be gone by the time she were to die and who would keep her captive then?

Or maybe it was a punishment. She gets forcibly attached to her caretaker, she had heard Hermione talk about things like that before, then they leave her and start the process all over again. It’d been a year and a half with him and already she was panicked at the thought she might not see him everyday.

“Should we cut it again?” he mused. “What do you think?” his fingers twirled a black lock around his hand and he tugged gently. She frowned a little, reaching up to pull a piece straight to evaluate the length. Then plucked Lucius’ ribbon straight from his hair to tie hers up, though strands still escaped, unruly even if they were tamer than they’d ever been. His chuckle was deep and only slightly stifled as he pushed his hair back behind his ear. She did not often initiate touches but it always seemed to make his eyes sparkle.

She hated herself for noticing it.


End file.
